


Death and All His Friends

by thisonestargazer



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Chanel Boots Skywalker, Dimension Travel, F/F, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Jedi Council - Freeform, Jedi Culture, Jedi's need more love and therapy, LGBTQ Female Character, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker are Brothers, Prequel Era, Sith Shenanigans (Star Wars), That's Not How The Force Works
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24635908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisonestargazer/pseuds/thisonestargazer
Summary: "Mara, oh thank-" I grabbed onto her, forcing myself to a seated position on the scratchy hospital bed. She pushed me off, as her eyes widened in surprise. Was I in a coma or something?I reached out again as she took a step away from me, and anxiety began to rise in my throat, "What's wrong?" I demanded. Right as Mara brought herself to respond, a few more figures entered the room.A bunch of gibberish swam out of Mara's mouth and I dropped my mouth in shock. What in the absolute hell was going on? I needed to know. Did I forget how to speak English?Looking from her to the hopeful answers that had entered the room, I choked at seeing a green little troll with a walking stick.It was Yoda.
Relationships: Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s), Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Kudos: 7





	Death and All His Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Can anybody fly this thing  
> Before my head explodes  
> Or my head starts to ring

The routine was simple. 

Wake up, go to work, spend eight hours dreading my existence, text Mara during the boring meetings, and finally, head on to our apartment where Mara and I would either: a) get drunk or high, or b) watch a movie and cuddle together. 

It was simple, it was perfect. 

It was perfect when she wasn’t staying late at work or traveling to work conventions. Mara was head of public relations for a big fortune 500 company, while I had the opportunity to work as a social media specialist for a small grassroots organization. 

She was perfect, an absolute model, practically a Pepper Potts of any company. She controlled herself with an air of “I know what I’m doing” and confidence that a motivational speaker desired to have. She challenged others constantly and I was absolutely a nervous wreck when we first met. 

We met in college, sitting together in the same Marketing class with Dr. Richards. I sat in the corner of the class, and the first day, Ms. Mara Stevenson rushed in late. It was the only time I saw her so chaotic, so distressed yet she was somehow still put together. She sat down next to me, as I saw her morph into a calculated listener, watching exactly what the professor would say. 

As she grew to be more perfect, I grew to be more of a mess. Coming to college, I was excited and very confident in myself. But after my first semester there, I shrunk in on myself and confined myself to the University Library. 

Meeting Mara was a blessing. We sat together in that Marketing class and would doodle on each other’s notes. We would study together, and I felt as if she listened to me, whenever no one else would. 

Now I was 27 years old, and years after graduating we lived together in downtown Chicago. 

Except while everything was perfect, everything this past year had gone to shit. Mara was constantly on the move, and I became a hermit at our apartment. It was exhausting to get myself out when Mara wasn’t around, and I felt guilty. I knew how to socialize, and we both had friends, but recently I found it harder to reach out. 

Especially in the past few days. I had been hit by a never-ending feeling of vertigo. As my feet would land on the ground in the morning after what I assumed to be a good night’s rest, it was the same as the last day, and I again felt unbalanced. My body was moving too fast for my mind and I felt like I was going through a never-ending slow-motion world. 

While Mara was away for work, I had allowed myself to cocoon more in on myself and order Chinese for dinner, night after night. So, when I opened my fridge that morning, all I had was 40 bottles of crusty condiments, and the farther I looked, just a fancy old cheese I didn’t know the name of. 

I think it was one Mara had bought. She loved hosting wine nights with friends and knew exactly the right fig jams and old cheeses to buy. Ourselves and our guests would bond over the tasteless water crackers and some nonsensical small talk. I didn’t think the cheese would get me emotional, but it brought some tears to my eyes. 

Oh god, I relied on Mara for everything. 

It was something I was trying to work on, setting boundaries and caring more for myself but with Mara’s constant motherliness and coddling, I fell back into old habits. 

But today, I was going to take charge. It was the weekend, and Mara was supposed to arrive back from her conference sometime later today and I couldn’t exactly eat mustard for breakfast, so I had to brave the city and its people. 

Except, there’s that part where I’m a hermit. Which meant, pushing myself to leave my apartment wasn’t the easiest thing to do. 

Going outside wasn’t scary. It was just that I didn’t prefer to go outside and right about now, I was contemplating having nasty mustard and a cup of coffee for breakfast. 

Yet, this was a challenge for me. A step forward for better boundaries with Mara and better self-care. Respecting myself for actually having a normal breakfast with some edible sustenance. 

Some eggs would probably be good, but once again mustard was also just as good. Besides, eggs and mustard we're pretty much the same color. So, at fault, the same food.

The yolk of the egg was yellow, and the mustard was yellow, so they pretty much managed to balance each other out. But then I thought back to Mara and realized I would look like an absolute mess if the apartment wasn't somewhat put together. 

When Mara was home, I’d always make her breakfast. Sometimes I’d make eggs and put food dye in them and would pull out some bacon to greet her morning glow with a fabulous, one of a kind, green eggs and ham. 

I’d put a cup of coffee down next to her meal and would give a cheerful, “Voila!” I had always made little themed meals for us when she was home, and when I was alone, those meals didn’t seem as interesting to me. 

This was the longest Mara had been away for, the conference spanning two weeks and then before that, she practically was never home because of work. It pretty much just felt like I was living with me, myself, and I. 

The more I sat in my apartment, the more comfortable I got with the idea of watching Netflix all day. But damn it I was going to get some eggs. I shrugged on a sweatshirt and some little booties and fled the apartment, beginning my journey to the grocery store. 

I put my headphones in my ears as I started my music and High Speed came on. The only thing that was keeping me sane was Coldplay songs, and as sad of a mood they could display, I always managed to keep a level head while listening to them. 

_Can anybody fly this thing?_   
_Before my head explodes_   
_Or my head starts to ring_

I tapped my hand against my legs as I walked down the building stairs and out our apartment building doors. It was cold as hell outside, but I needed those eggs. 

Walking along the sidewalk, snowflakes fell softly and for a second, the world seemed to be quiet. I was heading to the store a few blocks away and watched as people walked past me in the lively holiday spirit. I passed a group of friends laughing and holding cups of hot chocolate. What I wouldn’t kill for a cup of that. 

_We’ve been living life inside a bubble_   
_We’ve been living life inside a bubble_

Well, I did have time to grab some on the way back. 

I reached an intersection and as it got colder the longer outside, I shoved my hands deeper into my sweatshirt.

“Why the hell is it so cold?” I muttered, as my lips seemed to crack and my cheeks warmed. Chicago was known for its cold winters and although it was known as the “Windy City”, the city didn’t have that much wind. 

_Confidence in you_   
_Is confidence in me_   
_Is confidence in a higher speed_

Cars passed me at the intersection, and I watched as they slid on the road. Hoping that I wouldn’t be a victim of their driving. The walking sign lit up and I watched as cars slowly slid to a stop, and I entered the grocery store. 

I grabbed a cart, and went down the aisles, adamant to be as quick as possible, and be in contact with as little as people as possible. Getting the eggs, some toast, and jam I made my way to the checkout line. 

“Hello.” The Cashier looked exceptionally bored, and I felt sympathy towards them.

“Hey.” I plopped my items on the counter and gave a light smile.

They looked into my eyes, and I felt them staring at my soul, “Leanna, you’re meant for something bigger than this.”

I looked around, grabbing my eggs and holding them to my chest. This wasn’t normal, this sounded like some shit coming out of a fairy tale, “Excuse me?”

“Help the Chosen One and the Order… They’re misguided, and you can help them.” I lowered my eyes and took a step back from the once bored and now interested Cashier, and seethed, “What?”

“I said, paper or plastic?” I was suddenly pulled back to the bored Cashier and jumped, looking around, then put my hands on the Cashier booth, and pointed my finger at them, “Did you just say something to me?”

They looked confused, but done with their job in customer service, “Paper or plastic, ma’am.”

I sighed, feeling anxiety grasping onto me, “Paper.” 

Grabbing my items, I sped out of the store into the cold. What Order? What Chosen One? This all sounded like a myth. I needed to somehow ground myself, none of this made sense. Maybe a side effect of becoming a hermit was experiencing auditory and visual hallucinations?

I held onto my things at the intersection, eager to get home and to hide away from the world. As I saw the walking light turn white so I could walk, I crossed, and the only one seeming to do so. 

It was just my luck that was when a car hit me and with a scream, I fell into unconsciousness. 

Being unconscious wasn’t preferred. 

But dying wasn’t even preferred either. I was hoping I wasn't dead. 

I just wanted to see Mara. Hoping this was a dream and I could escape and wake up next to her as she held onto me in bed, muttering, “Please don’t leave.”

Except, the darkness was never-ending and felt like it lasted forever. 

I couldn’t feel anything on my body, and I felt numb as if I was floating; detached from my emotions and body. 

But as soon as I felt detached, everything snapped back into place and I felt excruciating pain enter my body and fear coming from out of nowhere. 

I could hear sounds around me and beeping as if I was in a hospital bed and muttering that sounded like Mara. 

My eyes slightly cracked open and I shifted myself slightly up as the pain continued and saw Mara. In her beautiful glory and all. 

"Mara, oh thank-" I grabbed onto her, forcing myself to a seated position on the scratchy hospital bed. She pushed me off, as her eyes widened in surprise. Was I in a coma or something?

I reached out again as she took a step away from me, and anxiety began to rise in my throat, "What's wrong?" I demanded. Right as Mara brought herself to respond, a few more figures entered the room.

A bunch of gibberish swam out of Mara's mouth and I dropped my mouth in shock. What in the absolute hell was going on? I needed to know. Did I forget how to speak English?

Looking from her to the hopeful answers that had entered the room, I choked at seeing a green little troll with a walking stick.

It was Yoda.


End file.
